


Before It's Over

by Mildly_Maddy



Series: Lines We Shouldn't Have Crossed [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Infidelity, M/M, Smut, boys being selfish, referenced liam/cheryl, referenced louis/danielle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 10:14:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7310860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mildly_Maddy/pseuds/Mildly_Maddy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Louis wakes up feeling like death from his hangover. He's never drinking again, this time he means it.</i>
</p><p> <i>Then again, the dream he had was worth it, he thinks, rolling on his back with a grin. His right arm collides with another body and Louis freezes, the hairs on his arm standing on end.</i></p><p><i>There's someone in his bed.</i><br/><br/>The morning after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before It's Over

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Randominity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Randominity/gifts).



> [Tumblr post for easy sharing](http://mildlymaddy.tumblr.com/post/146567081716/the-lines-we-shouldnt-have-crossed-series) :)

Louis wakes up feeling like death from his hangover. He's never drinking again, this time he means it.

Then again, the dream he had was worth it, he thinks, rolling on his back with a grin. His right arm collides with another body and Louis freezes, the hairs on his arm standing on end.

There's someone in his bed.

Louis stares up at the ceiling, the window (it's daylight out), his bedside table (the clock says it's already 11.30), anything to delay the moment where he'll have to look at the person lying next to him.

He doesn't remember bringing anyone back from the club. On the other hand, he thinks as he slowly, very slowly turns his head to the side, he doesn't really remember how he got back to his hotel room.

The overwhelming relief at seeing it's Liam lasts all of a second before the exact same thought washes over him like icy water. It's _Liam_.

Events from the previous night - what he _thought_ had only been a drug-induced dream - rush back to him with deafening clarity. The feel of Liam's lips on his, Liam's firm grip on his cock… the taste of Liam's precome on his tongue. It all shoots straight down to Louis's dick, which perks up despite the vicious hangover headache. He's also naked, he realizes, and one glance down the hard hairy expanse of Liam's torso (Louis gets harder still at the sight, no matter how desperately he tries not to), uncovered by the sheets bunched up low around his waist, is enough to confirm that Liam isn't wearing anything either.

Louis’s heart is hammering behind his ribs, the sound deafening in his ears, and when Liam frowns in his sleeps Louis wonders if he can hear it. Feeling bile rising up at the back of his throat, he gets up and stumbles his way to the bathroom, carefully closing the door behind himself before sliding down to the cold tiled floor. He idly wonders if he’s going to throw up, but his nausea doesn’t seem to be the kind that actually goes anywhere and he remains sitting against the door, staring at the marble foot of the sink in front of him. It’s spotless, not one hair or dust mote to break the monotony of luxury, but it keeps his thoughts occupied for a while, long enough for his heart to finally slow down and his dick to deflate.

Still, after a while the words must be thought, no matter how hard they are to lay out.

He had sex with Liam last night.

Louis lets the thought hang in the air for a while, observes it like it was a painting, wants to reach out and touch it, see if it makes it more real. His headache is like a steel bar behind his eyes and his throat is parched, but it all fades away in front of this inescapable thought.

He had sex with Liam last night.

Thinking it a second time does not magically make it easier to deal with, and Louis almost says it out loud before remembering that Liam is in the next room.

Because Liam stayed. They had sex last night, then Louis stumbled into bed in a drunken stupor, and Liam washed up, washed Louis up, and stayed. Naked. Somehow this last bit seems particularly important to Louis, who realizes in the same moment that he himself is still very much naked, and his bum is getting cold.

Grabbing the nearby toilet bowl, Louis makes himself stand up and unfolds one of the bathrobes, slipping it on and tying the soft belt as tight as it will go around his waist.

He steps to the impossibly large mirror overhanging the sink and stares at his own gaunt face, skin blotchy from the previous night’s excesses, dark bags under his eyes. His stubble looks darker than usual against his pale skin. He looks, in short, like shit.

This is another thing to do besides trying to figure out how to get out of the mess he's in, so Louis shakes the soap out of its little cardboard box and turns the tap on. Scrub face, wash teeth, shave. By the end of it Louis feels significantly more human, even though he's still just as confused.

There's a soft hesitant knock on the door.

“Lou? You in there?”

Louis freezes.

“... Louis?” Liam’s voice trails off, then picks up, louder. “Lou are you okay?”

He's in Daddy Direction mode.

The familiarity is soothing, but it's not exactly what Louis would have hoped for, if he'd hoped for anything (which he didn't).

“I'm fine,” he finally calls out, flinching at how raspy his voice is. He clears his throat then tries again; “Just a little hungover. Coming out in a sec.”

“Alright,” Liam says, then there's silence once more. Louis hopes he's ordering breakfast. The nausea is rapidly being replaced by hunger; he could just murder an omelette.

He can't stay in this bathroom all day.

Securing the belt around his bathrobe, he steps out to find Liam sitting on the edge of the bed, typing on his cellphone. He's still naked, as attested by the dark patch of pubes visible over the bedsheets pooled in his lap. Louis looks away, actually feeling his cheeks heat up, which isn't something he can remember ever happening.

“Feeling better?” Liam asks after a minute and twelve seconds, not that Louis's been counting.

“Great.” Louis’s still not looking at Liam. He pats the pockets of his bathrobe before remembering that it's a brand new one and cannot therefore be holding the usual pack of smokes. He must have left it on his bedside table, right next to Liam who, a quick glance confirms, is still as naked as he was a minute ago.

“I need some aspirin,” Louis says, striding to his duffle bag and crouching down to search through it for the box of pills he always keeps for emergencies such as these.

“I'll have a couple of these if you've got spares,” Liam says, and Louis is left with no choice but to bring him the pills and a bottle of water snatched from the mini-bar. Liam looks the picture of casualness, sitting naked on the edge of Louis's bed a mere few hours after Louis sucked him off, and Louis wants to ask him how he's pulling it off, but instead downs his own two pills with half the bottle.

He almost chokes on his swallow when Liam tugs on his bathrobe, forcing him to take a step forward. His foot lands on Liam's foot and he hastily takes it away, for no reason he can fathom.

“Why don't you sit down,” Liam says, his voice suddenly not as composed; knowing that Liam may be just as nervous as he is makes it easier to sit down next to him, although Louis makes sure their bodies aren't touching.

There's silence for a while. Louis focuses on his receding headache, trying to will it away, staring down at the beige carpet with unfocused eyes until he fancies he can see moving shapes in it, although that might still be from the booze.

He lets his head drop forward when Liam's hand gently comes to rest on the nape of his neck, enjoying for a second the familiar pressure of Liam's fingers. It's very close to perfect, until he blurts out, “We're both in relationships,” finally voicing the unformed thought that has been prickling the back of his head ever since he woke up to find Liam in his bed.

Liam’s touch falters, then his hand leaves Louis’s neck completely. When Louis tips his head towards him, Liam looks sullen. “I know,” he mumbles, as if he resents Louis for bringing it up. Which Louis can understand. He's pretty mad at himself right now.

“Just thought someone should bring it up,” he says, still, unwilling to backtrack.

Liam is silent for a while (three minutes and thirty-two seconds), his lips parting from time to time, as if he can't decide on what to say. “It was good, though, right?” he finally asks, so low Louis has to strain to hear it.

“Understatement of the century,” Louis huffs before he can think not to, because last night was fucking amazing, thank you very much. The way Liam breaks into a beam makes something flip around in Louis's stomach. It's probably hunger.

“Yeah, I thought so too,” Liam says, his tone radically different from a second ago.

There is so much skin on display and Louis really wants to reach out and brush his fingers against Liam’s side, make him squirm so he has an excuse to touch him again. If he’d known last night was real he would have tried not to fall asleep, he’d have tried to do more. Heck, he’d have let Liam fuck him if Liam was willing, never mind that Louis’s never been fucked by anyone before.

He realizes he’s been staring at Liam’s torso at the same moment Liam tips his head down, trying to catch Louis’s eye. “Penny for your thoughts?” Liam asks, his tone still a bit playful, although Louis knows him well enough to detect the hint of nervousness at the back of it.

He’s not about to tell Liam he was thinking of what it might feel like, to let him stick his cock up Louis’s arse; he’s still got _some_ dignity left, as much as you can have when you’ve recently sunk to your knees and sucked on your best friend’s cock like you’d been gagging for it for years (which, admittedly, isn't much).

“Just… nothing,” he says, forcing himself to look back up at Liam’s face. He knows there’s more to say, that they need to put words on this so they can put it behind them, because there is no other option, but the way Liam is staring at his lips is making it really hard to focus. He wants to do it again. Right now, preferably. He knows he’ll never forgive himself for it, that an ill-advised one night stand with his best friend isn’t worth losing Danielle over, but it’s _Liam_ , and Louis’s reaching out for him before he can even think not to, pressing a sweaty palm to the back of Liam’s neck and pushing his head forward until their lips are almost touching.

“I wanted you so much I didn't… I didn't want to think,” Liam breathes, and this, at least, makes sense. Because Louis sure as hell did not waste a single second thinking last night, too eager to just dismiss it all as a drug-fueled hallucination despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary.

It’s only a second into the kiss that Louis realizes what he’s doing, and it takes another second for his brain to helpfully remind him that this isn’t the first time this has happened. The electricity when Liam’s teeth close around Louis’s bottom lip, though, that feels brand new. Liam tastes of stale whiskey and cold tobacco, but Louis couldn’t care less, opening his mouth to let Liam’s tongue in without hesitation. There are strong hands on his hips, grabbing the folds of his robe and tugging until he gives in and straddles Liam’s lap, feeling his cheeks heat up all over again when the sheet slides away under him; he’s almost glad for his enduring hard-on because at least it means his cock isn’t anywhere near Liam’s naked body, safely protected behind Louis’s thick bathrobe.

That is, until Liam’s fingers start working on the knot of Louis’s belt without Liam even breaking the kiss, and then the belt is gone, and Liam’s hands are sliding under the fabric, gently but firmly gripping Louis’s bare hips and tugging him even closer into his lap, Liam tipping his head back as Louis deepens the kiss, hands clenched on Liam’s jaw.

Louis jolts as his cock bumps against hard, hot skin, too smooth to be Liam’s stomach. “Fuck!” he gasps against Liam’s mouth, just as a polite knock cuts through the relative silence of the room.

“Cleaning service!”

“... fuck,” Louis says again, the intonation completely different. He sits back on Liam’s thighs, hiding his face against the curve of Liam’s neck as if it could make the cleaning lady go away.

“You’d better answer that,” Liam says, and Louis is at least satisfied to hear his voice is shot to shit with arousal.

He clambers off Liam’s lap very ungraciously and nervously closes his robe tight, trying to compose himself as much as possible in the ten small steps it takes him to get to the door. The doorknob turns before he can reach for it and he almost gets smacked in the face by the door as it’s pushed open by the cleaning trolley.

“Oh!”

The woman is young, and she goes beetroot red at the sight of Louis. He wonders idly if his state of arousal is written on his face, or if she’s just a fan. 

“Sorry, I forgot the… the thing…”

“It’s okay, I’ll come back later,” says the woman, already retreating in the hallway, barely making eye contact.

Louis makes sure to hang the Do Not Disturb sign on the door before closing it, then turns around, carefully keeping his eyes down so he doesn’t have to look at the bed. He spots the room service menu on a nearby table and pretends to look at it, but none of the words make sense. What he _wants_ to do is go back to the bed and start back where they left off, but the distance between him and Liam feels too great to broach.

Maybe he should order breakfast. The moment has probably passed, anyway. Liam will get dressed and get out and-

Louis freezes with one hand in the air, still holding the page he was turning. He can feel Liam behind him even before Liam’s hands sneak around his waist, untying his belt with two quick pulls. Liam’s fingertips brush against Louis’s shoulders as he grabs the collar of his robe and pulls it off, letting it pool around Louis’s feet, and suddenly they’re pressed back to front, Liam’s cock hot and hard against Louis's arse.

“Breakfast can wait,” Liam says, breath fanning over Louis’s shoulder as he bends forward and bites him, the conflicting sensation of Liam’s sharp teeth and soft beard making Louis’s skin break into goosebumps.

Liam presses a kiss right below Louis’s ear, then bites him again, sucking a bruise on the point where neck meets shoulder, one hand coming to hover over Louis's belly before gently pressing against it, sliding down until his pinky finger is buried in Louis's pubes, almost but not quite touching the base of his cock.

Louis can’t breathe. It’s not only the feel of Liam’s hands on his skin, although that is quite an experience in itself, but he’s used to being the one who pushes, the one who dares. Having Liam be so bold, having him _take_ without seemingly worrying that Louis might not give in return, is making Louis dizzy with want. Liam’s lips trail up his neck to his jaw, then his teeth gently close over Louis’s earlobe, making him gasp. “I wanna do it again,” Liam all but growls, and Louis’s _gone_ , turning around and barely taking in the sights (Liam is so fucking fit it’s almost indecent, and Louis has seen him naked countless times before, but never like this, never hard, so hard, fuck) before he lunges up to kiss him, burying one hand in Liam’s hair and grabbing his arm with the other, very nearly biting on Liam’s tongue as their cocks bump against each other once more. Liam’s hands are on his arse, pushing forward and up, and Louis wants him, wants everything, now now _now_.

“Yeah, want it too,” Liam gasps between kisses, taking one careful step back after another until they’ve reached the bed. Louis expects him to lie down, pushes him to show he wants it, but Liam flips them over and Louis finds himself sitting on the edge of the bed, blinking stupidly as Liam kneels on the carpet at his feet, hands sliding from Louis’s knees to his inner thighs, gently but firmly pushing his legs open.

“Oh fuck,” Louis faintly says when Liam scoots forward, fingers tantalizingly brushing against the length of Louis’s cock before closing around its base.

“Wanted to try that yesterday,” Liam says, looking in equal parts nervous and eager, the hand that isn’t holding Louis’s cock still firm on Louis’s thigh, holding him still as easy as anything despite Louis’s struggling. Not like Louis really wants to stop Liam from doing this, anyway, but there’s something about seeing Liam kneeling in between his legs, staring at his cock like he can’t wait to get his mouth around it, that makes Louis’s flight reflex rear up. Fantasizing about all of this, jerking off in the shower while thinking about Liam soaping wet and grinning on stage, twisting on hotel bed sheets to slowly fuck himself with two fingers, pretending it’s Liam’s cock… all that was safe. Liam slowly leaning forward, his breath ghosting over the tip of Louis’s desperately hard cock, the tip of his tongue gently lapping at the head… this is everything but.

Liam goes slow but steady, clearly inexperienced and equally clearly determined to do a good job, not that he needs to worry. Louis can already feel his balls tingling, hands clenching around the bed sheets as he leans back on his stretched out arms, staring down at Liam without blinking. Liam with his lips stretched tight around his cock is easily the most obscene thing Louis’s seen in his entire life, and he’s seen some pretty sexy stuff. 

Liam’s blow job is too slow, and sloppy, and he can’t seem to get his fingers and his mouth moving at the same time, but it’s easily the best blow job Louis’s ever had, or at least it feels that way as he lets himself fall back on the mattress, coming with a helpless gasp, hating himself for missing the sight of Liam swallowing - oh shit, he _is_ , Liam’s swallowing around his cock, and if Louis could come twice in a row, he would.

It has barely started and it’s already over, and Louis blinks at the ceiling, trying to catch his breath and his bearings, heart galloping behind his ribs and down his veins. He can feel Liam’s beard against his thigh, pictures Liam kneeling on the carpet with his cheek pressed against Louis’s leg, lips still wet with Louis’s come. His cock, not yet softening, gives a jerk, but there’s no way it’ll go up again right now, and Louis isn’t sure he could stand another orgasm anyway.

It takes him a while to realize what the steady bumping against his shin means, but once he does he scrambles up, pushing at Liam’s arm with a shaking hand.

“No way,” he says, leaning down to muffle Liam’s weak protest with his lips, reaching down to wrap his own hand around Liam’s cock. It’s already wet with precome, and Louis break the kiss to bite at Liam’s lower lip, growling. “I can’t believe…” he says, twisting his wrist on the upstroke and smirking at Liam’s helpless whimper, “you were going…” He bites Liam’s lip again, then swipes it with his tongue, “to get off on your own.”

Liam’s cock is impossibly hard in his hand and Louis blindly reaches with his other hand to twist Liam’s nipple at the same time he deepens the kiss, swallowing Liam’s moan as he comes all over Louis’s shin and forearm, hands clutching at Louis’s hips hard enough to leave bruises (god, Louis _hopes_ there’ll be bruises. He wants a reminder of this, wants it branded on his skin, wants to know where he’ll get a tattoo to make sure he never forgets).

They stay like that for a while, Liam kneeling sideways between Louis’s legs, slumped over his thighs, and Louis hunched over him, forehead resting against Liam’s shoulder, Liam’s head pressed against Louis’s chest, a gasping, sweaty tangle of limbs. Louis trails his fingers down Liam’s arms, his back, gently strokes his hair, steals every touch he can before the moment has to end. Soon they will need to get up, to act like responsible adults, to face what has happened and what needs to happen next. Louis doesn’t want to, but he knows it will happen, knows Liam will not tacitly agree to keep them in silent limbo.

They’ll have to talk soon, but for now Louis lets himself enjoy the moment.

  
  



End file.
